Good Tech/Bad Tech

Wild revelry is out for me. Although I’ve been told that I still have some great dance moves, I won’t be showing them off on New Year’s Eve. Instead, I’ve tendered my resignation from the Jet Set and am resolved to lead a life of reflection. Who am I kidding?

While reflection is excellent, and I have nothing against contemplation, I tend to be of the “just get out there and so something” school. Just get out to the shop and carve, get up in the morning and write, or go to the station and get way in over your head in fixing a server just because the alternative is stasis. And I hate working on computer servers.

I had an upgrade on a server go very wrong the other day. And that prompted me to holler out, ” I’m too old for this shit!!!!” But, of course, I shut right up and regretted saying it immediately. Last year, the subject came up in a conversation with a friend: when do we say no to learning new technology?

My father’s answer had been never. He’d been a marine engineer, and technology had been his toy. My mother said no early on and could barely operate a tape player. My wife says she is no good at computers but is a resource person on the systems at her workplace. She may be a reluctant tech user, but not one who has thrown in the towel and refuses to learn.

It’s possible to quite the pedant about this and starts looking up learned articles on when mental acuity lags. According to one friend giving up on tech is the equivalent of sitting in front of the screen and watching Netflix. There you sit all day while meldrops of mucus from on the tip of your nose, and you make odd noises.

I’ve chosen an in-between path. I’ve started triage on my tech. Some readers may know that I’m no fan of Marie Kondo, but I’ve found the philosophy of evaluating tech by sparks of joy useful: 

  • does this tech do something useful or essential for me?
  • Does it amuse me?
  • Is it well designed and has the necessary features I need without feature bloat?

This past year for my business, I’ve had to master several new technologies and their attendant software. Triage has been helpful. If it fails, I don’t adopt it, throw it away, or ignore it.

If you feel overwhelmed by what technology offers, it may not be you. Instead, it may be the technology. Years ago, I was told that the sign of a mature well-developed technology was elegant design, ease of use, and simplicity.

If you want to get out there and do something, your technological aids should not be burdensome impediments. Triage.

New and Old

We can easily get lost in the weeds talking about tradition in crafts. It’s just hard to avoid observing that technology casts long shadows when you make something and call it traditional. The majority of shops that work with wood use bandsaws, table saws, and jointers. These tools have been around long enough not to ignite a vendetta among purists looking for “traditionally crafted goods.” But the technological landscape is always changing for the craftsperson.
Recently I have been nosing about on the borders. A few years ago, a series of eye surgeries compromised my ability to do certain types of woodcarving, mostly lettering. After surgery, I began to explore what I could and couldn’t conveniently do. The vision changes prompted the carving shop’s move from the old basement workshop into the greenhouse – I needed lots of light. Last year I also began to play around incorporating laser engraving and cutting as an adjunct to my carving.
Some things worked well, and others fell flat. Frankly, it’s all a work in progress. The small sign shown above is one of the projects that worked. Some of the others wound up feeding the woodstove.
Is it traditional? Well, was it traditional when craftspeople and artists began using acrylic paints or using computers to assist them in design?

Years ago, when I worked as an anthropologist, I knew a woman who crafted the most incredible Ukrainian Easter eggs. One afternoon over coffee Elizabeth introduced me to the history of technological innovation in the world of decorated Easter eggs. Over the centuries, dies and methods of preparation changed. But the community accepted the eggs because of the continuity of design and meaning in the community.
Back in the ’80’s colleagues were musing about Cambodian kite makers shifting from traditional fabrics used in Cambodia to the ripstop nylon available to them here in the United States. The maker of traditional Cambodian dance costumes received mention also. One of them had adopted the hot glue gun and factory-made jewelry findings to construct elaborate headdresses and other costume bits. They looked like the old style, but the components and techniques had evolved.

On one project I worked on years ago with boatbuilders, I asked builders what they thought was the central concept that defined the traditional boat. I had expected them to talk about materials, construction techniques, and design. I wasn’t disappointed because they all mentioned those things to one degree or another, but as a group, they said the value placed on the boat by the community that used them was central. One well-known figure I interviewed ( Lance Lee) suggested the term “cherish” as the central concept – the boats were cherished and valued by the community. It was the community of users that made something traditional.

The laser engraver that sits in the basement, and my visual handicap, got me thinking about these things. The concept of craft, especially when labeled traditional, has some minefields laid in it for the artisan. Look beyond technology to intent, the community’s acceptance of the product, and the continuation of design tradition. Sometimes we might be daunted by what we see, but the first carver who moved from a stone or bone tipped tool to one of metal started us on the moving process of technology in arts and craft.

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